Please Come Back
by The Apathetic Jackass
Summary: Alfred can't remember this blonde-haired violet-eyed man, but does he really want to? Or will the truth crush him? Angsty suicidal Canada Day fic.


**Please Come Back**

_**Disclaimer: (Insert clever way of saying don't own Hetalia. Or Mcdonalds, ect. Hell I don't own jack shit.)**_

**Warning: Angst, sexual crap, suicidal character death, language, ect.**

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><p><em>Every morning I wish it was night again, for it is only at night, and in the depths of my dreams...<em>

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><p>Alfred F. Jones was taking a walk.<p>

It was maddening. It was hell. He couldn't go to sleep without these dreams. Dreams of fluffy blonde hair and bright violet eyes and _red red red everywhere..._

Stop it. Breathe. Continue walking. The worst part of it all?

He couldn't remember this persons name.

He knew for sure that it was a man. He found that out in one of his more _explicit _dreams. In fact, almost all of his dreams were explicit. Alfred sighed, and started heading back home, hoping that the dreams of the oddly familiar man would leave.

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><p>"HEY IGGY! LETS GO FOR MCDONALDS!"<p>

"NO YOU BLOODY GIT!"

This is their routine. Alfred saying something annoying, Arthur getting mad, Alred inviting Arthur out to Mcdonalds, Arthur refusing violently, Arthur giving in, eating Mcdonalds, going to Arthurs house, fucking, Arthur trying to convince Alfred to stay, Alfred leaving anyways, repeat. They arrive at Mcdonalds and Alfred orders an absurd amount of hamburgers while Arthur orders tea. They grab their food while bickering and sit at the table in the far corner of the restraunt, the one they always sit at. Arthur complains how Mcdonalds can't make a decent cup of tea, as usual.

"You know, If you keep eating this crap yo-"

_"-ur gonna get fat Alfred!" the cute little blonde squeaks. Alfred loves how disgruntled he looks with his messy blonde hair, bright violet eyes, angry blush, and cute little pout that makes him want to jump the tiny blonde an ride him like there's no tomorrow._

_"Aw, that ain't true! I work out all the time! Geeze mom, chill out!"_

_"I only say these things because I love you Al, and I don't want you getting sick!" the smaller man says, cheeks reddening. _

_Alfred feels a smile tug at the corners of his lips before saying, "I love you to Ma-"_

"-fred! Alfred! Are you okay?"

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. What the hell was that? Sure he had dreams about the cute blonde, but never during the day. He just wanted them to go away. They were annoying and distracting and scary and _amazing._ Whenever he saw the little blonde in his dreams, there was a strange feeling in his chest. It hurt so much, but it felt good. His heart would race and his palms would grow sweaty, and he was pretty sure it was love. Alfred F. Jones wasn't supposed to love. He's the US of fucking A and he takes whatever he wants and fucks whoever he wants and thats how it will always be. So he sighs and hopes **(dreads) **for the day these visions come to an end.

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><p><em>Alfred watched Kiku from the bed as he gets up and gets changed into his his clothes, hair rumpled and smelling of sex. He smirks but internally he's worried. He feels like he's forgetting something important. That he's gonna regret his little escapade with Kiku. As soon as he finishes his internal ponderings, the bedroom door is opened to show a small blonde with a heartbroken expression.<em>

_Shit shit shit shit, how could he forget!_

_The blonde is still at the bedroom door, with his shocked and sad expression that makes Alfred's heart break and makes him feel less than garbage. Kiku rushes out of the room, but the blonde still stares at Alfred with those goddamn beautiful eyes. Suddenly, tears start rolling down his face. Alfred starts panicking internally, because he promised himself that he would never make the blonde boy cry. Because he loves him to fucking much. But now that he broken his promise he's mad. Mad at Kiku because he wasn't fast enough and mad at the blonde boy because he's fucking America and he should know that this would've happened, and he ignores the voice in the inside of his head telling him that his pride is getting in the way and that its all his fault. The tiny blonde turns around and runs away from the room. Alfred does nothing even though the voice in his head tells him to run after him and apologize and beg for his forgivness but his pride stops him. He finally notices the bag that the Canadian dropped and when he see's what it is, his heart drops._

_It's Mcdonalds._

_This is when Alfred finally breaks down and cries._

"DON"T GO!"

Alfred is a panting sweaty mess. Why why _why _did these dreams hurt so much! He hasn't even met the guy and he's already like this! He was the embodiment of America! He was stronger than this! After his internal ranting, he looked at the clock and groaned. _3:00 in the fucking morning! _Thats also when he noticed the date. It was July 1st, three days before his birthday. Usually, this unimportant date shouldn't have affected him, yet he felt horrible. He felt like the scum of the earth. Sighing, he got up and started to get ready for the World Meeting in the morning.

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><p>Walking down the halls, heading to the meeting room, America certainly didn't expect getting punched in the face by an ex-nation, but it happened non the less. So as he was on the ground, clutching his bloody nose, wondering why exactly Gilbert, otherwise known as Prussia, would punch him, Gilbert starts walking towards him.<p>

"Woah, hey there buddy, why are you looking so murderous?"

Gilbert stops and look him in the eyes, and thats when Alfred sees the heartbreak in them. He also sees the disbelief, like it should be obvious why he decided to break the mans face. Finally, Gilbert manages to stutter out a sentence.

"H-how dare YOU? You s-should know f-fucking why!"

Alfred hears the stutters, but he knows that its not from nervousness or anything of the like, its from barely concealed anger. Gilbert may no longer be a nation, but he still had an enormous amount of strength and could very easily break most of the bones in Alfreds body.

"I don't know what your talking about Gilb-"

"YOU NO LONGER HAVE THE RIGHT TO SAY MY NAME!"

Alfred winces, still seeing the heartbroken eyes and the outraged look on his face, and for some reason, feels like he deserves it.

"Look, I don't know what you're talking about.

Gilbert barely manages to whisper out, "Don't you remember w-who's birthday it is?"

"Uh, Hong Kong's?"

Gilbert suddenly falls to his knee's, clutching his head. Alfred walks towards him, and overs him a hand. but Gilbert smacks it away. He's shaking, and Alfred can see the tears streaming down his face.

"H-how could you...h-he loved you...I l-loved him...a-and you f-forgot..? I don't k-know if I should b-be l-laughing or c-crying...b-because its a-all your f-fault! Y-you s-should r-remember, you o-owe him that m-much b-but you don't d-deserve to r-remember. Birdie, oh B-birdie I m-miss you so f-fucking much..."

The word Birdie strikes a cord in Alfred. He feels sadness and regret and is that jealousy? Yes, its jealousy, flooding his body like kryptonite. Francis and Antonio appear from around the corner and quickley scoop Gilbert up. Francis, Alfred notes, looks tired. His eyes are red and puffy like he's been crying, and he has bags underneath them. Before he leaves he shoots Alfred an apologetic and..is that an accusitory?, look at the American.

"Desole, mon ami, but Gilbert is understandibly distraught. Then again, we all are, but Gilbert took Mattheiu's death the hardest. Aurevoir Amerique."

Alfred isn't listening though. He didn't hear anything beyond the word Mattheiu. He feels like he's gonna be sick. So he rushes to the washroom and notes many red and puffy eyed nations. Ukraine, Netherlands, Cuba, South Korea, the Nordic 5, South Italy, Austrailia, hell even Egypt and Russia. And they all send him murderous glares and a glass vase, courtesy of South Italy. So while his breakfast is coming back the wrong way, he has tme to think. While he's thinking, another flashback invades his mind.

_Alfred walks down the hall and just goes around the corner when he see's __**him. **__Laughing with Prussia. Red is all he see's as he walks foward towards the jovial pair. Alfred knew that the Prussian wanted the little blonde, but he always seemed so oblivious! Always just said that they were best friends! This sure didn't look like best friends!__**(Yes America this is what friends do, don't over react don't do something you'll regret) **__Besides, he should have forgiven him already! All he did was sleep with Japan! He over-reacted! He's almost at the end of the hallway, and the Canadian finally notices him. He turns to Alfred with his heartbroken eyes._

_"Look Alfred, we need to talk."_

_Oh god oh god oh god oh god! What if he wants to break up with me? What if he doesn't forgive me? What if he hates me? The sentence that'll ruin everything tumbles out of Alfreds mouth before he could stop it._

_"Who are you?"_

_The pain is evident in his face and makes Alfred want beg for forgivniss, but instead he squares his jaw and keeps walking foward, not even a moment of hesitation._

_Mattie will forgive him eventually._

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><p>Alfred gets his head out of the toilet and gasps. He can never escape, it's everywhere. Hell, he's in no shape to go to the meeting. So Alfred cleans himself up, exits the washroom, heads to his car, and drives home. Usually he wouldn't leave the meeting without another warm body to share his bed and then leave, but for some reason, just the thought of it makes him sick. He knows its because of the dreams. He's so tired, but he doesn't want to sleep. If he does then the dreams will come back again. But he doesn't know if its a good thing yet, because some of the dreams are terrifying and make his heart break while others are just so <em>good <em>filled with love and lust and beautifulviolet eyes. He assumes the guys name is Mattie because of his final thought in the dream, but the name still doesn't mean anything to him, doesn't jog his memory at all. Finally he decides that the sooner he gets the dreams over with the better. So he crawls into bed and his tiredness takes over quickly.

_Alfred makes his way towards Matthews home in Ottawa. Its Mattie's birthday today, July 1st and Alfred wants to apologize. It's been two weeks since the hallway fiasco and Alfred just can't stand __**not **__being around Matthew. He misses his fluffy blonde hair, his bright violet eyes, his shy smile, his much tinier body, the way he moans whenever Alfred pulls on his curl..._

_Woah there cowboy, lets wait till Mattie forgives you first before jumping ahead. When he finally gets to the modest two story house, his stomach immediatly drops. All the lights are off. Matthew always leaves at least one on whenever he goes out, and only turns them all off when he's sleeping. It's 2:30 in the afternoon. Alfred immediatly rushes towards the door, noting that the door is unlocked and slightly open. He tears through the house but not finding the cute little Canuck. Finally, after searching through every other room in the house, he decides to search the attic. The entrance to the attic is open. As he climbs up the attic stairs, a metallic smell hits him. Alfreds heart cracks as he climbs up the remaining stairs and shatters when he sees the sight before him. It's Mattie, covered in his own blood, lying face down. His little polar bears once pristine fur is now matted with dried blood, nudging the Canadian with his nose, crying._

_"Wake up! Wake up!"_

_Alfred walks towards the heart breaking sight and pulls the bloody boy in his arms. He's numb, can't even cry at how he isn't breathing. He finally looks into his face and see's that those once beautiful eyes, so full of hope and life, are now dull and lifeless. _

_Finally Alfred screams._

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><p>It's 2:00 in the morning now. Canada Day is over, but that doesn't really matter for the man sobbing on the stars and stripes patterned sheets. He finally remembers the love of his life, but its much too late. He called himself a hero. He's not even close to one. The only thing this pitiful shell of a human is whisper the same name over and over again, tears streaming down his face.<p>

_"Mattie, Mattie, Mattie, Mattie, I'm sorry, I love you..."_

_"...please come back."_

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><p><em>...that I can feel you, and you still belong to me.<em>

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><p><strong>Finally finished my Canada Day fic! And it just ended too! right on time! So, I love Mattie, but I just love these angsty suicide fics. Specially when Alfreds involved. Hope you enjoyed it!<strong>

**Ciao!**

**~Me**


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